The Avengers of Justice
by Psyconiix
Summary: Everything as you know it is about to change. A war is coming - one that Earth may not survive. The greatest superheroes from DC and Marvel comics must come together in order to stop an evil threat that is bound to destroy the world; but the real question is: can they put their differences aside; or will they destroy each other?
1. Chapter 1

**THE AVENGERS OF JUSTICE**

 _Author's notes: This is a re-posting of a story I left unfinished. I wanted to re-tell it better than I had been telling it in the first place, so please bear with me. I will now take a few moments to explain the events leading up to this cumulative event, as this story will feature dozens and dozens of characters from both the DC universe as well as the Marvel universe. This story will feature long chapters, as there are so many characters to cover._

 _Many of these ideas and concepts will be taken directly from comics, television shows, and/or movies with original ideas tossed in as well. I claim no ownership of these characters, all rights belong to their respective owners. This fan-fiction is not for profit, but for mere enjoyment. Further ado, here is a brief background to the story you are about to read. Please enjoy, and if you do, review, favourite, follow. Thank-you! - P_

* * *

 **IN THE LAST THREE YEARS...**

Superhuman activity has spiked across the globe. To the public, the first major event was that of the Superman, but he was only the beginning. More and more sightings and incidents arose. The world soon came to know many of these superhumans as superheroes, but with good always comes evil. Many battles were waged, heroes and villains colliding in epic battles, costing billions of dollars in damage.

This created a divide within the people. Many loved and supported the heroes, praising them, citing need for them. While others rejected them, regarded them as a problem. And so the divide within the people became greater and greater. Protests began to happen; local law enforcement was barely enough to contain the violence. The country - the world - had never been more divided.

The public called on elected officials to take action, yet those in power could not settle on any course of action. The United Nations were divided in their ideals and allegiance.

In the United States of America, a presidential election was being held, and the issue of superhumans became the defining factor. Democratic nominee Henry McCoy believed that all superhumans deserved the same rights and freedoms each and every person has. His opponent, the Republican nominee Maxwell Lord, believed in the opposite.

Maxwell Lord believed in laying sanctions and regulations on superhumans, and he used fear and hate to gain support. The election became one sided, with Lord surging in the polls. Lord had gained support from the world's most powerful men and women. His running mate was Lex Luthor, a powerful business man, with heavy ties to the United States Military.

Many of Lord's supporters included: Norman Osborn, Ferris Boyle, Morgan Edge, Simon Stagg, Justin Hammer, and Wilson Fisk - all very respected men in the public's eye, whilst McCoy's support began to dwindle.

As tension began to build, the President of the United States asked for Superman to join him in the White House, to ensure a smooth transition of power. The President hoped in his last few months as president, he could ease the relations between Superman, as well as those like him, and the ones who doubted their dispositions.

And that is where our story begins...

* * *

 **CHAPTER I**

 **Calling To Giants**

 **Outside of The White House | Washington, D.C. | 3:04PM | October 5**

An enormous crowd formed around the White House, all there for one reason: Superman. Thousands upon thousands gathered; some showing their support for the Man of Tomorrow, others showing contempt and their ill will. Many held signs; others wore t-shirts. They all expressed themselves in different ways, but they all got their points across.

On the White House lawn, media had assembled. Every news studio imaginable was present; reporters were on the scene filming live, whilst journalist and photographers tried to capture a different sort of essence. Many of the world's greatest reporters were present, all trying to get the story of the century.

Secret Service Agents surrounded the White House. Snipers sat high in windows in various buildings around the block. Security was tight; there was no room for errors. That day would go down in history as one of the most important and historic days of all time; and the excitement was about to begin.

Above the White House, what looked like a blur soon came into focus: Superman hovered above the White House, slowly descending from the clouds. The crowd reacted, loudly, in their own ways. Many cheered and clapped, while others booed and shouted. Law enforcement fought to keep the crowd under control, as Superman landed gracefully on the White House lawn.

Secret Service Agents kept motionless, not wanting to provoke any sudden reactions.

Superman smiled to them, and proceeded towards the White House. He paused for a moment as he passed by the press. In unison, they all began to ask questions, trying to talk over each other. Cameras flashed, the lights blinding.

But Superman ignored the voices and the camera flashes. He focused on one reporter, one woman: Lois Lane. She stood there, staring right back at him solemnly. Their eyes met for a brief moment, before Superman trotted off, continuing toward the White House.

* * *

 **The Oval Office | The White House | 3:18PM | October 5**

Inside the Oval Office, dozens of high ranking officials, including the Secretaries of Defense; State; and Homeland Security. The Director of the CIA; the Attorney General; and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and Staff were all present. And of course, the Vice-President, alongside the President of the United States himself, President Suarez.

Superman stood in the centre of the room; all eyes on him.

"Thank-you, Superman, for coming," President Suarez said.

"Of course, Mr. President," Superman replied, bowing his head.

"Before we begin..." President Suarez hesitated for a brief moment, and then continued, "... if you could all leave the room, except for Superman of course."

All those present began to argue, but President Suarez waved his hand, silencing them.

"It wasn't a question; there is no need to protest. Please leave," he said defiantly.

Unwillingly, everyone but Superman and President Suarez left the room. Many of them glaring as they left. Once they were alone, President Suarez sat down and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"Finally I can relax. They thought I was intimidated by you when in reality their penetrating eyes make my bones chill," President Suarez said, his tone much lighter. "You know, Superman, over the last eight years I've made many allies, but of course, with such a long career, one is bound to make enemies. Three years ago, you saved my life, as well as everyone aboard Air Force One.

"Ever since then, I have considered you one of my greatest allies. Hell, many of the world do. Many countries worship you, which makes others fear you. The reason I called you here wasn't for my own discomfort, but for the pressure the UN is putting on me. They want me to lay clear sanctions on you, as you act of America. They think you're an undercover government agent."

"We both know that's not true," Superman said.

"We do. They don't. And with this election coming up, sanctions and new regulations may become a reality. Look at Mr. Lord, his promises of regulating and controlling superpowered individuals have garnered much support, and it's clear to see why. A man with the power you have, uncontrolled, ungoverned, it can lead to acts of horror," The President continued.

"Mr. President, with all due respect, no one controls me. No one ever will. No matter who sits in this office, I'll hold true to the three things I vowed I would: truth, justice, and the American-way. Even if sometimes people forget what the way truly means."

"I knew you'd say that, and that's why I want you to promise me something: no matter what happens, do not lose hope in the people. For some," the President's eyes fell upon the **S** crest on Superman's chest, "that's all they have. Do not let fear and hate win. Divided we fall."

"There will always be evil, Mr. President, in all shapes, forms, and political agendas. But I'm used to it, I will not waiver nor falter. I give you my word."

"Their fear isn't unjustified. More and more people who can do the extraordinary are showing themselves. Many choose to commit horrendous acts. The difference is, there have never been people like _them."_

"Mr. President," Superman said, "there are always people like them. There always has been, there always will be."

* * *

 **Outside of The White House | Washington, D.C. | 4:32PM | October 5**

Superman exited The White House, crossing the courtyard. Instantly, the press and the crowds began to roar; their voices all screaming in unison. The roar was deafening, but Superman didn't miss a step.

A chant arose from deep within the crowd. It grew louder and louder until it was all one could hear. Hundreds of thousands of voices, all chanting: "SU-PER-MAN! GO HOME NOW! **SU-PER-MAN! GO HOME NOW!** "

Superman stopped. He looked through the crowd, at all the faces, from those of hate and anger to those of joy and love. He looked back to Lois Lane, who looked right back. Her eyes were white, her face was pale. He smiled at her, almost as if to reassure her of his promise; the one of his journey.

Next to her stood a photographer, Jimmy Olsen. He, too, was pale. He took photographs, but seemed reluctant due to the circumstance.

"You know him, don't you?"

The voice came from beside Jimmy. Jimmy turned to face another photographer, a young man like himself.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. Took the first photo of him," Jimmy said. "You are?"

"Peter Parker, photographer," Peter said, gesturing to his own camera. "I work for the Daily Bugle in New York."

"Oh yeah, heard of them. They don't exactly share the Daily Planet's optimistic outlook," Jimmy pointed out.

"No," said Peter, "they don't." He knew better than most.

Superman rocketed off the ground and soared into the sky. He created a sonic boom as he neared the upper atmosphere, and disappeared from sight, flying off towards the blinding sun.

* * *

 **Gotham News Network Studio | Gotham, N.J. | 8:09PM | October 5**

Broadcasting live from the GNN studio in downtown Gotham was the latest episode of 'Gotham Tonight', featuring host Vicki Vale and her nightly guests.

That evening, Vicki's guests were renowned sociologist Jean DeWolff and political analyst G. Gordon Godfrey. The two had been discussing the impact of superhumans in today's society as well as the influence they had in international affairs.

"I mean, look at what is happening," Godfrey said, "we are allowing there individuals with great power to do whatever they want! They aren't taking responsibility for their actions, and that is exactly why we need a leader like Maxwell Lord. We need someone who is willing to stand up for the rights of the little people."

"You're talking about isolating and targeting a diverse and unique set of individuals, Gordon," DeWolff argured. "You're suggesting we bring back segregation against a culture of people we do not yet understand, and that's fear mongering!"

"I'm not talking about segregating, I'm talking about making sure no one is above the law. That everyone, especially those with great power, are still governed and are not exempt to the laws we have here, as well as international laws. Besides, we already have plenty of superhumans who support presidential candidate Maxwell Lord. Reed Richards and Susan Storm for example.

"They have offered their support in furthering science by working together with us. S.T.A.R. Laboratories scientists have been working closely with the two individuals in discovering what exactly happened to them, and if it's possible to reverse, or to use to eliminate certain diseases or conditions," Godfrey rambled on.

"Exploitation. And what about the individuals who do not want to be tested on? The ones that wish to keep their privacy? The ones that hide behind masks?"

"What are they hiding for?"

"Let's compare them to celebrities. Celebrities can't take off a mask and return to a normal life. Many of these superhumans are still humans with lives and families of their own," DeWolff said.

"Ms. DeWolff," Vicki interrupted, "don't you believe someone has the right to know if their neighbour can shoot laser beams from their eyes?"

"They're not all criminals; they do not need a registry" argued DeWolff.

"But they all are dangerous," Godfrey spat, "and don't forget: absolute power corrupts absolutely. Let's not forget, many individuals who led us down horrible paths had to first inspire a nation. We need to come together as a people, superhuman or not, and take off our masks. I mean, look at Superman. What we would - no, what could - we do, if he decided he didn't want to stand for his corny: _truth, justice, or the American-way?_

"We already have a president who goes soft on these acts of terror many superhumans commit! Henry McCoy is just another coward who can't do what is necessary, and that's why people are losing faith. No one wants a leader who allows weapons of mass destruction to fly freely over our heads!"

* * *

 **Parking Garage | Gotham, N.J. | 10:41PM | October 5**

Jean DeWolff exited the stairwell and stepped into the parking garage. It was dark, but Jean had a good memory. She knew exactly where her car was parked.

The night air was cold, and in Gotham, every night was eerie. Her pace quickened as she remembered Gotham's many nicknames: City of Death; America's Most Dangerous City. Statistics of crime ran through her mind. Gotham was not a safe city, especially at night. She gazed out of the garage and up at the dark sky. There, painted on the black clouds, was the symbol of a bat.

Jean heard the stories of Gotham's Caped Crusader, protecting Gotham City for almost twelve years. The Gotham Police Department used the light as a way to keep fear in the hearts of criminals, but she knew better. The Bat of Gotham and his warriors of the night were only fables; but with everything that was happening in the world, giant bat creatures didn't seem out of the question.

She pulled her key fob from her pocket and clicked the unlock button. She froze as her headlights illuminated a large shadowy figure, standing close by. Her heart began racing. She tried to ignore the figure, heading straight for her car. But the figure cut her off.

At first, she wondered if it was Gotham's Dark Knight; but she was no criminal. She was about to be mugged, she could feel it.

"Jean DeWolff," the voice growled in the darkness.

She froze. Her mouth dry, she could only find one word to say:

"Yes."

The figure stepped out into the light, revealing himself. He wore a black armoured suit with a grey skull mask. Two bones crossed each other on his chest. He was large and intimidating. Jean couldn't move.

"You can call me Crossbones; but please, don't take this personally."

An enormous dagger extended from Crossbone's wrist; it shimmered in the moonlight.

"I'll try and make it painless."

And then, he was upon her.

* * *

 **Gotham Skyline | 10:45PM | October 5**

High above Gotham City thunder loomed. The city lights shone up into the darkened skies, reaching towards the heavens.

A scream echoed up the city's skyscrapers. Amongst the gargoyle statues on Gotham's oldest infrastructure, one of them moved.

* * *

 **Parking Garage | Gotham, N.J. | 10:48PM | October 5**

Another dark figure emerged from the shadows inside the parking garage, but it wasn't Crossbones. He wore a similar suit, black, grey, and armoured. A long black cape was draped over his shoulders, whilst white eyes pierced the darkness from his cowl: The Batman.

He stared across the parking garage, where a car was consumed in flames. He approached it, and noticed a body trapped inside the car. On the garage floor, before the burning car, was a symbol drawn with gasoline, which burned as bright as the car: a bat.

"Hey!" a voice shouted across the garage.

A security guard peered across the garage, frozen at the sight of Batman. He pulled a gun from his waistband, dropping his gaze, but it was too late. Batman was gone.

* * *

 **The Daily Bugle | New York City | 9:31AM | October 6**

Peter Parker sat at his desk, reviewing his photographs of Superman from the day before. The bullpen was busy, reporters and photographers rushed around, trying to make their deadline.

"... Breaking news now, we have just been told one of the world's leading sociologists Jean DeWolff was found murdered last night..."

Peter's attention quickly turned from his photographs to the television in the corner of the room. A small group of reporters had gathered around it, listening intently.

On screen was Gotham News Network's Vicki Vale, reporting from outside of cordoned off parking garage.

"Sources are telling us a witness described none other than Gotham's giant bat-monster phenomenon being present at the scene last night. There's no official word yet, but Gotham Police Department has received backlash from claims they have been working with some sort of vigilante. We haven't been able to a hold of Commissioner James Gordon, but Mayor Hill did promise he would be getting to the bottom of it.

"In other news, presidential candidate Maxwell Lord commented on the murder of DeWolff, stating that 'Gotham's police force has been negligent and now there is blood on their hands'..."

Peter turned away, thoughts raced through his mind. Peter knew he had to do something; he faced other criminals before, but this would be different. If the police in Gotham wouldn't bring this murderer to justice, Peter would.

" **PARKER!** "

Peter's heart skipped a beat. He turned to see his boss, J. Jonah Jameson in his office doorway.

"Get over to Gotham! Get on this bat-creature story, you have a knack for masked freaks!" Jonah shouted, slamming his door on his way back into his office.

* * *

 **The Batcave | Underneath Wayne Manor | 2:16PM | October 6**

Alone in the darkness, Bruce Wayne sat in front of an enormous computer, surrounded by a dozen smaller monitors. He watched as security camera footage showed video of the parking garage from the night previous. He watched as the man known as Crossbones emerged from the darkness and killed Jean DeWolff.

"And whom might that be?"Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce's loyal and most trusted friend, said.

Alfred pushed a small trolley carrying a pot of coffee and two cups of it. Alfred handed Bruce one, and they both drank.

"A new player; name is Brock Rumlow. Connections in Germany with this man: The Red Skull," Bruce said, pointing to a smaller monitor which displayed a picture of the infamous German Nazi Red Skull. "Also to this man: Taskmaster."

Another monitor showed an image of the Taskmaster. He wore a long white cape and hood, with a black body suit, and skull mask.

"And what exactly do they have to gain from the assassination of a sociologist?" Alfred asked.

"I think they're to send a message," Bruce said, showing Alfred another image: the burning bat symbol.

"Well, whatever it is you plan on doing, I hope it can wait. You have a formal event to attend to tonight: Mr. Lord's," Alfred reminded him.

"That'll be the perfect opportunity to see exactly what he's up to," Bruce said.

"Lucius will be there as well, after all, that joint venture you requested with OsCorp is about to come full circle. Wayne Medical has made some real progress with OsCorp - or so I'm told. Also," Alfred remembered, "Master Dick called. He's sick of Master Damion's company and wishes you to return him to the Manor."

"Dick will be fine for now. It's good for him."

"I believe he wanted some alone time with Ms. Gordon"

"Where's Jason? Tim?"

"Master Jason is currently working with the Outlaws and Master Tim is with Spoiler and Orphan. And before you ask, Ms. Kane is with the Birds."

"Get a hold of Tim, Damian could learn a thing or two from him."

"Very well, Master Wayne."

Alfred began to push the trolley away, when he paused. He looked back at Bruce, and said:

"Be careful, Master Bruce, things have changed in the last few years. These aren't the same criminals you're used to, they're more powerful. They're dangerous."

"Aren't _they_ always?" Bruce asked rhetorically.

* * *

 **Democrat Headquarters | Washington, D.C. | 3:07PM | October 6**

Henry 'Hank' McCoy sat in his office, going over new reports. His friend and bodyguard Pyotr Rasputin, a mammoth of a man, sat in a chair in the corner of the room. He played a game on his cell phone: _ping, ping..._

The infernal beeping finally got to Hank, causing him to slam down his papers. Pyotr looked up from his phone and smiled innocently.

"We have to go back to Salem, Pyotr, I need to speak with Charles," Hank said, clearly distraught.

"Is that smart?" Pyotr spoke with a thick Russian accent.

"I don't know, but these," he gestured to the reports, "aren't looking so great. I know we are undercover, but I need some advice. And I'm running low on my serum," Hank said.

Indeed, the serum was beginning to wear off. Hank noticed large blue veins pulsating through his wrists and ankles. He would soon be reverting back into his normal anthropomorphic form.

"If we must, we must," Pyotr agreed.

"We're losing, Pyotr, and we're losing badly." Hank took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I fear as if we lose this battle, the war is only just beginning. And it will be a war to end all wars; mutants and humans alike.

"Would it be so bad for us to work for the people?" Pyotr asked.

"We wouldn't be working for the people; we'd be working for the world powers. They say absolute power corrupts absolutely, but what happens when you give such a corrupt species absolute power? Signing away our freedom - we'd be weapons."

"We're already weapons, Hank, we just pull our own triggers."

"And I believe we've done a good job at knowing when to pull them. I'm not sure I'd want my trigger in someone else's hand. What's more important, do you think, Pyotr: their safety or our freedom?"

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. One of McCoy's advisers swung open the door and rushed in urgently.

"Hank," he said, panting, "you've got to see the news."

Hank grabbed the remote and turned on the television in his room, where Galaxy Communications was broadcasting live. ' **BREAKING NEWS** ' was superimposed along the bottom screen, underneath the five news anchor, including Cat Grant.

"We have just received word that the nation of Latveria has just declared war on the nation south of its border: Serbia. Latveria is known for its hostility as well as its superpowered leader, a man known as Mr - no - excuse me, Dr. Von Doom. Latveria has launched a full frontal attack on Serbia, including what can only be described as a technological warfare, with many claiming not only soldiers, but robots, are on the battlefield.

"Serbia's Prime Minister Ana Brnabić has requested international help, and even requested the Man of Steel himself to come to their aid. Serbia has been a large supporter of Superman, now it's time to see if he will answer their plea. Meanwhile, we have not yet got word from The White House on what America's response will be..."

Hank looked to Pyotr, and said:

"We have to go - now."

* * *

 **Gotham Library | Downtown Gotham | 6:12PM | October 6**

The library's hall had been turned into a dining banquet. All of America's most elite and prestigious were in attendance. Among the elite were all several reporters, ready to cover Mr. Lord's fundraiser dinner.

Among the reporters was Vicki Vale. She lingered by the table, sipping on her drink, when she, and just about everyone else, noticed Gotham's favourite son entering the hall: Bruce Wayne.

Bruce was dressed in a black tuxedo, his hair all slicked back. He crossed the floor and pulled a glass of champagne off a waiter's tray.

"Bruce Wayne!"

Bruce turned around, where he came face-to-face with Lex Luthor.

"Lex, how are you?" Bruce asked as the two men shook hands.

"I'm very well. Glad you could make it. My running mate, Mr. Lord, will be quite happy to see you. I think he's hoping for a public endorsement," Lex said with a foxy smirk.

"He doesn't have enough billionaires on his endorsement list?"

"Speaking of billionaires how's your little venture with OsCorp going? I'm a little offended, Bruce, last time Wayne Enterprises tried to work with LexCorp you backed out?"

"Wayne Enterprises is a progressive company, Lex, we're not military arms dealers."

"And that's why Wayne Enterprises always falls short compared to LexCorp. Did you hear about Latveria? Terrible, terrible. I hear President Suarez will be sending our troops there very soon."

"I bet you're thrilled, after all, you deal with Serbia and America; you must be making a profit."

"Please, Bruce, there's more money to be made in peace, not war. That's why I'm on the right side of history. If we have some safety nets in place, this war may not have happened."

"Well, we can't control the actions of every single person. We'll just have to trust the good guys to do the right thing."

"Ah, the good guys, well, we can call to the giants for help, but what happens when they choose not to answer?"

Bruce and Lex stared at each other, their eyes penetrating each other.

"I just hope Superman saves the day - like always. If you'll excuse me, Mr. Wayne. Enjoy the party," Lex said as he walked away.

As Bruce watched him leave, he felt vibration on his wrist. He checked his watch. The highly advanced watch had a digital screen, displaying one message. It read: ' **URGT: 911 CALL** '.

Bruce turned and left the hall - it was time to go to work.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER II**

 **The Choices We Make**

 **Gotham Library | Downtown Gotham | 6:30PM | October 6**

Bruce hurried out of the hall. He had hoped that whatever the message was would help lead him to the man called Crossbones. Bruce rounded the corner toward the exit, where he nearly collided with another party guest. He stopped and shot the guest a smile, trying to step passed him.

"Sorry."

"Bruce Wayne? In a hurry to leave? The party's just begun," the guest said.

Bruce stopped and looked to the guest. He was wearing a tuxedo much like Bruce's, and though he was inside, he still had his sunglasses on. Bruce recognised him almost immediately.

"Tony Stark. Looks like the party did just start," Bruce said, but suddenly, his voice changed and began to threaten a hint of sarcasm. "Tell me, is your tin man outside securing the perimeter? You know, your head of security - The Invincible Iron Man?"

"Iron Man? No, no, he's back at Stark Industries guarding the assets. You're not still sour about me beating you to the patent on that new power core that is going to lead America into a new age of green energy are you?" Tony struck back.

"Guess I didn't have all the free time you did."

"Oh really? Drunken, billionaire, playboy? Nope, I'm all those things too. You know, it just seems to me you're mad we struck a deal with Queen Consolidated instead of Wayne Enterprises."

"I was the one who rejected the deal, Tony, I know everything I need to know about Stark Industries. You'd be better suited with LexCorp."

"Arms dealing? In case you missed the memo, Stark Industries has moved away from arms and into much more defensive and progressive matters. By the way, how's Norman Osborn? He's not shady at all."

"If you'll excuse me, Tony," Bruce growled, stepping passed Stark and continuing to the exit.

"Not going to work are you? I'm sure Lucius has it all taken care of. Like always," Tony said, watching Bruce leave.

Once Bruce was out of sight, Tony smirked to himself and continued on into the main hall. As he swept through the hall, he snagged two glasses of champagne from a waiter, downed them, and grabbed two more.

Vicki Vale had noticed Tony walking in and quickly approached him.

"Tony Stark - Vicki Vale, Gotham News Network. Are you Iron Man?" she asked confidently.

Tony looked slightly caught off guard. He spoke quickly, sarcastically, but confidently in his own right.

"No, and you can quote me on that, but if you ever want to see Stark Industries feel free to stop by."

Tony walked by her, but she kept up with his brisk pace.

"No thanks, I know your reputation. But what I want to know is why you won't admit to being -"

"Look," Tony interrupted, finishing his last glass of champagne, "I have no interest in flying around in a suit, even if it was totally awesome. I am not soldier, I have more refined tastes. I'm surprised you're not more interested in that bat-creature you have around here than me."

"I'm doing my research; why do you think I'm here? I'm surprised you're here without Pepper or Hogan."

"They took the night off, had some sights to see. Not every day you're in the great Gotham City. Now if you'll excuse me, I have someone I need to talk to," Tony said, handing her his two empty glasses and walking off.

Tony crossed through the sea of people,passing through the elites. He was searching with his eyes for one man in particular, and he soon found him: Lex Luthor.

"Lex Luthor. Nice party, thanks for the invitation; got any more champagne?" Tony said in his usual sarcastic voice.

"Tony, how nice it is that you could make it. We're about to start, would you like to give a speech?" Lex asked.

"You know I stay out of politics," Tony said.

"At a time like this? How can you afford to?"

"My resources are better left on this end of things."

"Building government defence systems, supercomputers, war suits. Tell me, how exactly does it work?"

"I would never trade secrets with a man who funds both sides of war."

"Your father did," Lex pointed out.

Tony's teeth began to grit. He held himself together, his anger bubbling inside.

"My father was a hero. He helped end the war," Tony growled.

"Oh sure, right after he helped start it," Lex said, smilingly devilishly. "You know, you're the second one of my guests tonight to accuse me of crimes that they can't even prove I commit. Odd, isn't it?"

"At least I'm not the only blind one here."

"Oh, on the contrary, he's as blind as a bat. But he holds his anger well; you, on the other hand, jeez, you're a mess. Why don't you go have another drink? After all, that's how you deal with all the people your family's company let die. How many more people are going to die, Tony, from irresponsible individuals who do whatever they want. Just like you: _Iron Man_. If you'll excuse me."

Lex brushed passed Tony, leaving him filled with questions and a raging hot rage. He watched Lex cross the floor and meet with Wilson Fisk and Norman Osborn. As he glared, he snagged another glass off a waiter's tray. This time, a martini.

 **Alleyway Outside Gotham Library | Downtown Gotham | 6:35PM | October 6**

Bruce emerged from the rear exit of the library into a darkened alleyway. He looked to his watch, and then pinched the screen together and pulled it up. Suddenly, a hologram appeared. Bruce entered commands into the hologram, and then pushed it back into the watch.

Looking around, Bruce spotted a fire escape on the building opposite. He leaped onto a dumpster, and then jumped just high enough to grab the bottom rung of the ladder. Hurriedly, Bruce climbed the fire escape towards to the rooftop.

 **Rooftop**

Bruce stepped off the fire escape onto the roof. He only had to wait a few minutes before he saw it coming towards him in the orange sky: The Batplane.

The black jet stopped over him. The plane's bottom hatch opened a dropped a large steel container. It landed a few feet away from him. Bruce approached it and placed his hand on the scanner. Once the scan completed and was accepted, the container opened, hissing. Inside, staring back at him, was the Batsuit.

The Batsuit opened, revealing its exo-skeleton inside. Bruce climbed in, and then the suit closed over top of him: The Batman.

Batman stepped out of the container and pressed a button on the container. The jet retracted the line, pulling the container back up and into the plane.

Through Batman's white lenses, he used his retina tracker to select and dial the Red Robin's com-link.

"Go for Tim," Tim said on the other line.

"It's Bruce. I need a favour," Batman said.

"Don't tell me; surveillance?" Tim asked, unimpressed.

Batman smiled. "How'd you guess? It's Lex Luthor. He's at the Gotham Library. He's up to something, I want to know where he's going. He's with some rough people: Boyle, Fisk, Osborn, Lord."

"Alright, I'm on it. Should I bring any of the team?"

"No, play this one close to the chest. I can't afford anyone to get caught, otherwise, it could be seen as an act of terrorism."

"Got it, solo-mission. On it boss."

They hung up.

Batman took his grappling gun and fired it up into the open hatch of the Batplane. Once it latched onto the rung inside, Batman took off and soared up into the sky, right into the jet.

 **Batplane**

Batman sat in the pilot's seat and took control. The jet rocketed off across the city's sky. Batman, again, used his retina tracker to play the 911 call: "Hello?!," it was a woman's voice. She was panicking, her voice was breaking. "911?! PLEASE HELP! My baby! They look my baby!"

"Ma'am, please calm down; who took your baby?"

"They did! Men in red robes, they had pentagrams on their chests! They said they were going to sacrifice him to Satan!"

Batman stopped the file. Within his white-lenses, he tracked the location of the call and pinpointed all known Satanic groups and churches in the area. Compiling a list, he quickly eliminated ones that were non-violent. He was only left with three. One was too far from the kidnapping. Between the two, Batman ran reports of the members and all crimes committed by the members.

They were both violent and extremist groups; both had been accused of stealing livestock and using them for sacrifice. Both there was one key difference: the leader of one of the groups had been accused of child molestation.

Batman's teeth grit as anger built inside him. He set the route in his navigator and began to speed up.

* * *

 **Lois & Clark's Apartment | Metropolis, D.E. | 6:30PM | October 6**

The apartment was small and quaint, made perfectly for two people. Everything was perfectly organised and spotless. The apartment sat in a quiet neighbourhood where rent was cheap enough that two reporters could afford.

Lois and Clark sat at their dining table, finishing up dinner. Clark's plate was near empty, whilst Lois's plate had hardly been touched,

Lois seemed uneasy, moving her food around with her fork.

Clark knew she was upset about him leaving, but found the subject hard to approach; but he decided to try anyway.

"Lois, I know you're up with my decision, but you know I have to. I'd be selfish if I didn't. They need me," Clark said.

"I know, I know. And it's selfish of me to think any different. It's just hard: you being you. Everyone expects so much, and that leaves so little for me," Lois said.

"Now you know how I felt when I first met you," Clark said, smiling as he remembered. "That Lois Lane, digging in the deepest trenches; fearing no man nor woman. Besides, if I wasn't Superman, I wouldn't have met you."

"You would have, somehow. I never thought myself the woman to settle down, but after I met you everything changed," Lois said.

"Well meeting a man who can fly can do that to you," Clark said with a smile.

"No, not that. A man like you; a man with such passion and desire to help those who need him. Even if you weren't Superman in a cape, you'd still be Superman to me. That's why I fell in love with you," Lois told him. "Just promise me you'll be alright."

"I promise," Clark said. He took her hand across the table and kissed it gently. "I'll be okay. Bulletproof, remember?

Lois tried to lighten up, but deep down she was still scared. The world was changing so fast, and for some reason, she had a horrible feeling about the future; she could feel it in her bones.

That night, Clark suited up in his red and blue ensemble, complete with his luscious bright red cape; the blazing yellow emblem on the back.

Lois watched him from the bed with her weary eyes. He smiled to her.

"I'm just glad Perry gave this story to Clark Kent. Maybe for once I won't have to worry you'll get caught in the cross-hairs," Superman said.

"Don't you worry, I have my own story I'm working on," she teased him.

Superman's voice grew serious, but his face filled with love. "I promised you I'd be okay," he said, "but I also made a promise to them, the people of Earth, that I'd be their greatest protector... I love you."

And then, in a blur, he was gone.

"I love you too," she whispered.

* * *

 **Temple of the Guardians | The Planet Oa | Time Unknown**

Green light reflected softly off the walls of the holy temple. The Guardians of the Universe sat high in their thrones waiting patiently for their guest to arrive.

Soon, the doors opened, and a man was led, reluctantly, by two Green Lanterns.

The man looked rough: he hadn't shaven for a few days; his eyes were bloodshot; and the smell of alcohol lingered on his dirty old clothes. It was Hal Jordan, the first Green Lantern of Earth.

"Alright, alright, I'm here - what do you want?" Hal asked.

But the Guardians said nothing. They merely looked down on his with distaste, like a parent would their child.

"Hello? I said: **what do you want?** " Hal asked again louder.

"Hal Jordan. You reek of alcohol. Where is your ring?" one of the Guardians asked.

Hal waved his right hand. There, on his index finger, was one of the most powerful weapons in the universe: the Green Lantern ring.

"What does that ring mean to you?" another Guardian asked.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Hal asked, annoyed.

"You were the first of your species to be granted such a gift, yet here you are, smelling of alcohol and wasting your gift sleeping with women," a third Guardian said.

"The ring chose me, I didn't ask for this. Why's it matter? You've got tons of Lanterns; I'm on vacation!"

"Hal," the first Guardian began, "I know what you're going through is hard. First your father, and now Carol, but -"

" **NO!** You don't know!" Hal screamed. "You _Guardians_ sit up there on your thrones, all high and mighty. Don't think for a second you know what it feels like. She was the first woman I ever loved, and because of this stupid ring I had to battle her. I had to kill her."

"You didn't kill her, Hal. The Zamarons condemned her to death when they chose her for their quest. You did what had to be done," the first Guardian said.

" _Had to be done_. Is that what you call it?" Hal asked bitterly.

"Yes. There are always causalities in war," a fourth Guardian spoke.

"Fuck your war," Hal spat. He turned and walked towards the door.

"Hal," the first Guardian called. Hal stopped and looked back.

"What?"

"War is ultimately inevitable, and that is why we've call you here," the Guardian said.

"Oh, so it wasn't to preach?" Hal asked angrily.

The Guardian ignored him. "Your home planet, Earth, is in danger. We have all seen it. A war is coming. You have not returned home since you've been granted the ring. Maybe now is the best time to do so."

"What kind of war?"

"One that may destroy Earth."

"They'll be fine, they have enough _superheroes_ down there."

"They need you. They need your power - your strength. You've lost a lot, Hal, don't lose all of them too. The choices we make define who we are; no matter how many mistakes we make, it is our courage to push on that sets us apart. We are the ones who command our wills and we alone. I cannot make you go, nor could I make you stay. The choice is yours. It seems many of those _superheroes_ have made their choices. Now what will yours be?"

The words stuck with Hal. He looked at his power ring, deciding...

 **X-Mansion | Salem, D.C. | 7:00PM | October 6**

In the office of Charles Xavier, Hank McCoy sat with Charles and his bodyguard Pyotr. The light was dimmed, darkening the room. Hank held a small syringe in his hand. Slowly, he injected the serum within into the vein at his elbow joint.

Within seconds, the pulsating blue veins that had appeared on Hank's wrists and ankles disappeared, retreating underneath his skin. Hank stretched his hand, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"That should give me a few more days. I'll have to take a few more doses back with me to Washington," Hank said, looking over his body.

"We have more pressing issues at the moment than your skin, Hank," Charles began, "it is a good thing you've returned to Salem, I'm afraid I have some bad news."

"More bad news? When does it stop?" Pyotr mumbled.

"What is it, Charles?" Hank asked.

"The last few nights, in Cerebro, I have been having trouble focusing on certain people or places. I fear their is someone trying to block me from seeing, or worse, trying to hide something or someone from me. Jean has felt is too: a disturbance. And it is powerful. It is growing."

"What is 'it', Charles? A person? A thing?" asked Hank.

"It is more than a person, Hank. I'm afraid whatever it is, is much - much - more powerful than any mutant we have ever encountered; if it even is a mutant."

"Well, with the amount of other superpowered individuals out there, it may very well not be. And don't forget, there is a lot of negative energy in the world right now, Charles. A war has just been waged in two Eastern countries. Perhaps it is the hate and the animosity - the fear - that is clouding your mind," Hank suggested.

"It may very well be. But for now, I wish to send a select few mutants back to Washington with you; including myself," Charles said.

"Are you sure that is such a risk is wise, Professor? We are drawing closer to the election, and exposure would surely be disqualification, if not much worse accusations," Hank argued.

"I may not be the wisest decision I've made, but it is the safest," Charles stated defiantly.

"No point in arguing," Pyotr said to Hank. He nodded.

"Fine, Charles. Who is coming back?" Hank asked.

"Scott, Jean, Rogue, Storm, myself and... Logan."

"Logan? Do you really think bringing a prone-to-anger animal to Washington is a good idea?" Hank asked, shocked at the thought of it.

"He does have a point, Professor," Pyotr agreed.

"I know Logan is a little... temperamental, but he is a valuable asset and a friend. We can trust him. He can be your new bodyguard, along with Pyotr."

"Next you'll be suggesting that lunatic in the red costume that plays with swords," Hank said.

"We'll leave in the morning. They already know they're coming so they'll be ready. Logan is going to meet us there," Charles explained.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Hank said uneasily.

"Trust me, Hank, something is telling me with you and Pyotr is where the six of us need to be."

 **Penthouse | Gotham Towers | Gotham, N.J. | 7:00PM | October 6**

Peter Parker entered the penthouse suite of the Gotham Towers hotel: one of the finest and more extravagant places to stay. He knew he could never afford it, but he also knew he wouldn't have to. His best friend Harry's dad owned the penthouse, and Peter was allowed to use it if he ever needed.

One call from Norman Osborn, and the penthouse suite of Gotham Towers was Peter's to use as long as he needed. And though the penthouse suite had everything Peter could ever want, from a jet tub to a beautiful view of the city, he was there for one business: business.

Peter hoped to only be there for a few days at most. And though he was excited to be in Gotham, he felt horrible. Peter had lied to his aunt and told her he and Harry were going to Gotham on a weekend trip, so he would be gone for a few days and miss a few days of school.

Peter was in grade twelve, and after having the powers and responsibilities he had, he matured a lot quicker than the others his age. School, working part-time at the Bugle, and being Spider-Man over the last two years were all strenuous on their own, but he put them all together.

Looking out the panoramic windows at Gotham's skyline, he could see what everyone in Gotham looked up to see: the bat symbol, burning a hole in the sky.

Peter looked over a few maps of Gotham. He had marked down every sighting of the Batman in the last six months on his train ride to Gotham. The pattern was there and Peter found it: the sightings were all in Gotham's East-End, nicknamed the Narrows.

That's where Peter would start. He suited up and leapt from the penthouse balcony, firing a web, and swinging off into Gotham's high rise as the Spectacular Spider-Man.

 **Satanic Church | East-End Gotham | 7:20PM | October 6**

Night fell upon Gotham as light retreated to the west. The Satanic church stood on a rundown street, next to buildings that had half fallen apart. Remnants of fencing had been torn down, as tall grass grew freely.

Above the church, the silhouette of a bat neared in the blackness: The Batplane.

Inside, Batman piloted the jet above the church, and held it still. He turned the controls to auto-pilot, and slipped out of the seat, moving to the rear of the plane. There, he opened the bottom hatch, and dropped out into the night sky.

As Batman free fell into the night, he opened his cape. Acting as a parachute, his cape allowed him to carefully glide down onto the roof of the church. He quickly located a ventilation shaft and slipped inside it, disappearing within.

As Batman crept through the darkness, his lenses scanned the church.

 _"I'm not picking up any hostiles, sir,"_ Alfred's voice said through the comlink.

"Neither are my scanners. Something is off," Batman said.

Batman stopped at the end of the shaft, where a grate covered the opening. Quietly, Batman popped open the grate and slipped out of the shaft, dropping down onto the church's mezzanine. Instantly, the smell of dead flesh attacked his nose.

Like a mouse, Batman slipped into the darkness. He peered over the mezzanine's balustrade to the church floor below.

Below, in the pews and across the church, were bodies; all dead. It was the members of the church, their blood splattered along the walls and paintings. The moonlight shimmered through the stained-glass windows, dancing along their dead bodies.

 _"My god,"_ Alfred gasped.

Batman's scanner suddenly locked onto one heat signature: **1 Hostile Detected**.

The hostile stepped out from the shadows and into the centre aisle. He looked up at the mezzanine, and though Batman knew he couldn't see him, he knew that whomever it was knew he was hiding.

"Come on out," the voice said, "sorry about the mess. Didn't get a chance to clean up."

As he moved into the light, Batman could see the crossbones on his chest.

Batman rose up. He stepped onto the balustrade and dropped down onto the church floor. His cape wrapped around him, concealing his hand that slowly unholstered three bat-a-rangs.

"I'm glad you got my message - you know - the one about the baby?" Crossbones asked sarcastically.

Batman said nothing.

"Well they weren't wrong, you really are quite the detective. Not much of a talker though, heard that too. You know what else I heard?" Crossbones continued, beginning to slowly move forward towards the motionless Batman.

"I heard you can fly. I heard you can disappear." Crossbones stopped suddenly, and then said: "if you're wondering why I'm here, it's to find out if you can die."

Suddenly, a large metal dagger extended from Crossbone's wrist.

Batman's eyes narrowed.

"I did you a favour killing these men; you're welcome," Crossbones said.

"You're the same: a criminal," Batman snarled.

"Oh so you do talk. Let's make you scream."

Crossbones bolted forward and swung his dagger at Batman. Instinctively, Batman let loose his bat-a-rangs, which bounced harmlessly off of Crossbone's armour; but it was enough of a distraction to allow Batman to parry the attack.

Batman struck back with a powerful blow to Crossbone's skull mask. Crossbones swung his dagger again, which again, Batman easily parried. In a powerful and quick combination of attacks, Batman punched Crossbone's in the stomach, and then delivered a powerful uppercut, followed by a powerful sidekick.

Crossbone's was flung back, crashing through two rows of pews.

Batman returned to his normal composure: calm, collected, dangerous. Slowly, he approached Crossbones who lied motionless on the floor.

As Batman drew close, Crossbones jolted up and swung the dagger, catching Batman's thigh. Sparks flew as the metal dagger tore across Batman's steel armour. Batman leaped back, checking his leg: a long scratch appeared in the armour.

"Armour," Crossbones said, getting to his feet. "So you are human. Wasn't sure - you know, with everything going on. Anyway, play time's over."

The dagger retracted and Crossbones pulled two handguns from his hip. Batman lunged behind a row of pews as bullets riddled them until the clips clicked empty.

Crossbones quickly reloaded and began creeping down the centre aisle, guns ready, searching through the darkness in the streams of moonlight.

"I've heard stories of you, Batman. Does it flatter you criminals tell other criminals stories of Gotham's Dark Knight to scare each other? We've all heard them! They even scared me. But now, being here with you, I feel slightly... Disappointed.

"They said you were terrifying: a wraith. That you'd break bones to get what you wanted - but - you'd never kill. Admirable, but foolish. Take me for example: you see all of these men? They'll never hurt anyone ever again. Thanks to me - not you. Doesn't it make you mad? I do your job better than you!"

Crossbones reacted to every flutter of movement. He peered through the darkness, searching. He began growing frustrated and annoyed, it reflected in his voice:

"The last guy I shot at was a little more colourful than you; more fun too, he actually wanted to fight!"

A bat-a-rang emerged from the darkness, spinning towards Crossbones. With lightning fast reflexes, Crossbones spun and shot the Bat-a-rang, blowing it into a million pieces.

"Did you really think you'd get me with that?" Crossbones said as he stepped backwards. Suddenly, he bumped into something.

"No," Batman said from behind him.

Crossbones spun on his heels. Batman struck Crossbones, knocking the guns from his hands. Crossbones swung a punch, but Batman avoided it. He threw a counter, but this time Crossbones caught it, and stuck Batman with a headbutt.

Batman stumbled back. Crossbones extended his dagger again and lunged forward. Batman parried it, and smashed his elbow into Crossbones mask. Crossbones quickly recovered and stabbed at Batman again.

Using the scallops on his gauntlets, Batman caught the dagger, like sais would catch a sword. They both battled: Crossbones driving forward, and Batman holding him back.

Batman dropped down, driving Crossbone's blade into the floor. Batman grabbed Crossbones behind the head, and smashed his knee into his mask. The blow was so powerful it cracked Crossbone's mask, and snapped the blade in half.

Crossbones fell back. Batman jumped forward, but Crossbones caught him around the cowl and spun with him, tossing him. Batman landed gracefully opposite him. Crossbones touched his mask and felt the crack.

"You're good; even better than I thought you'd be," Crossbones said.

Crossbones and Batman squared up yet again. After a moment, the two collided. Each throwing powerful blows at each other, but the other countering better. Punches became elbows, kicks became knees, neither man giving an inch.

Crossbones landed a hard right cross on Batman, who stumbled back. Crossbones skipped forward, and kicked Batman in the chest, sending him stumbling back. Crossbones charged forward; Batman caught his arm, spun, and tossed Crossbones over his shoulder.

Crossbones soared through the air, crashing through a wooden door and out into an alleyway.

 **Alleyway Outside of Satanic Church**

Crossbones rolled to his feet, but Batman was there. He grabbed Crossbones by the collar and shoved him into a wall; but he wasn't done. Batman struck Crossbones in the gut with his knee, and then headbutted him, shattering his mask even more, causing the bottom to fall off, revealing his mouth.

Batman tightened his grip, beginning to choke him.

"What are you doing in Gotham City?" Batman growled.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Crossbones choked.

Batman tightened his grip even more. Crossbones began to cough, fighting for air.

"Wrong answer?" Crossbones choked again.

"I won't ask again," Batman threatened.

"What are you going to do, Batman? Kill me?"

"You'll wish I had."

Batman headbutted him again. Blood began to trickle down Crossbones face from his broken nose. Batman socked him again to the head, sending him to the ground.

Batman grab him again and shoved him into the wall. This time, holding him with one arm, Batman began punching him repeatedly to the head and the body. Powerful, merciless blows. A rage burning within Batman.

"You killed Jean DeWolff! WHY?!" Batman roared.

"Fuck. You." Crossbones said, and then spat in Batman's face.

Batman's jaw clenched. He reached back with his fist, about to unleash all of his rage upon Crossbones when suddenly, a strand of web attached itself to Batman's elbow, stopping his from throwing his attack.

"Hey now, mister tall, dark and handsome, how about we play nice?"

Clinging to the church's wall was Spider-Man, holding the other end of the thread.

Batman eyed him carefully, and then sliced the web off his elbow with the scallops his on other arm. Batman ignored Spider-Man, and turned back to face Crossbones.

"Hey! Didn't you hear me?" Spider-Man said, readying to fire another web. "Play nice!"

Batman reeled around, throwing three bat-a-rangs at Spider-Man.

For Spider-Man, time seem to slow down. His Spider-Sense activated, warning him of the danger. Quickly, he flipped off the wall, and landed on the half-destroyed building on the opposite side of the alleyway.

Batman's eyes narrowed. He dropped Crossbones and turned his attention to Spider-Man.

"Whoa," Spider-Man whispered, _that's the Batman! He's real!_ he thought to himself excitedly. "Now that I have your attention: you're coming with me!"

Spider-Man took his hands off the wall, clinging with just his feet, and fired several web bullets at Batman.

Batman quickly dodged them and tossed more bat-a-rangs.

Spider-Man jumped off the wall, continuing to fire his web bullets.

Batman, with incredible speed, avoided several of the web bullets, but was finally caught with a few. Quickly, he used his cape to block the remainder until they stopped. He lowered his cape, and was struck by a hard kick as Spider-Man leaped through the air and dropped kicked him.

Batman soared back across the alleyway. He rolled to his feet, recovering. Spider-Man landed across from him.

"Look, buddy, I don't know who you think you are, but you're coming with me to answer a few questions," Spider-Mans said.

As he spoke, Batman's lenses scanned Spider-Man and quickly identified him. Batman accessed his database and found all the information he had about Spider-Man.

 _"Spider-Man in Gotham? I thought he mostly ran - or swung - around Manhattan?"_ Alfred's voice rang in Batman's ear.

"Walk away,"

 _"Sending it via Batplane now, sir,"_ Alfred's voice rang again.

"You murdered Jean DeWolff; you're a vigilante turned murderer. I've heard about you - didn't think you were real. But I've got questions and you've got answers. So we can either do this the hard way or the easy way: your choice," Spider-Man said confidently.

"I didn't kill her."

"Like you weren't beating that dude to a pulp? You have big ears, don't make me repeat myself: give up now."

"I thought you were supposed to be some sort of genius, and yet, here you are talking about things you know nothing about, but all kids of your age do it, trust me, I know. If you turn around and swing away, that'll be the end of whatever this is."

"This? This is me about to arrest you. But I'm done talking," Spider-Man said, beginning to walk towards Batman.

"Think about you aunt, Peter."

Spider-Man froze. How did Batman know who he was? And more concerningly, how did he know who he aunt was?

"What did you say?" Spider-Man asked bitterly.

"I need to find that man. The one you let get away. So move aside, or be put down, Parker," Batman growled.

He knows who I am! Spider-Man thought to himself. He questioned his own motives for a moment, before realising why he had came to the city in the first place: this man was a criminal, and he knew his secret identity. That made him a more dangerous criminal, and whether or not he revealed it, he had to stopped him.

Spider-Man fired two strands of webs at Batman, who bent backwards avoiding them. Using his hands, he back sprung to his feet and tossed four bat-a-rangs.

With his Spider-Sense, Spider-Man easily avoided the bat shaped shurikens. Spider-Man lunged forward and threw a hard punch, which Batman parried. Batman struck back and struck Spider-Man in the head.

The two began battling and trading blows: Batman's brute strength and skill versus Spider-Man quickness and agility.

Batman could feel Spider-Man's strength, but thanks to his suit, he could take the hits and deliver his own with increased strength.

Spider-Man began throwing a fury of strikes, which Batman blocked repeatedly. Spider-Man took advantage of the opportunity and shot webs at Batman's boots, gluing them to the alleyway.

Unable to move, Batman continued to block the attacks until it was no use. Spider-Man began to hit the attacks which started to take its toll. Batman could feel the blood in his mouth. He reached into his utility belt, but Spider-Man shot a web, and glued his hand to his belt.

Batman looked back, just as Spider-Man delivered a jaw breaking punch, ripping the web off the ground, sending Batman soaring into the church's brick wall, and shattering right through it.

 **Satanic Church**

Batman rolled to his feet, but this time, slower. He wiped the blood from his lip and spit some out of his mouth.

Spider-Man stepped over the rubble and into the church.

"It's not too late, Batman, stop trying," Spider-Man said.

"I'm not trying - I'm waiting," Batman replied, tearing his hand off his belt, and throwing another Bat-a-rang at Spider-Man.

Spider-Man fired a web bullet, hitting the bat-a-rang. Suddenly, the bat-a-rang exploded, sending Spider-Man flying backwards. Quickly, he regained composure and landed on the wall.

"They explode too?" Spider-Man asked rhetorically. "Time to finish this."

Spider-Man jumped into the air and began firing dozens of webs at Batman, who avoided many, sliced through others, but ultimately began getting caught with them.

Spider-Man danced around, using his webs to keep Batman's limbs stretched out. Batman grabbed hold of one of the webs, and through his glove, activated his electo-shock attack system.

Electricity rippled through Spider-Man's web and right into Spider-Man who screamed in pain, falling to his knees, holding his sides.

Using his gauntlets and bat-a-rangs, Batman sliced through the webbing.

Spider-Man quickly recovered and got to his face.

"Nice trick, but -"

But Batman was gone. Spider-Man looked around, searching through the darkness. He gulped.

His Spider-Sense triggered. He jumped several feet into the air, avoiding an exploding batbomb. He turned in mid-air, and was tackled by Batman.

The two landed hard on the church floor and began battling once again. This time, Batman fought on the inside, keeping Spider-Man's arms busy and unable to spin a web. Batman was able to gain the upperhand, delivering several powerful blows to both Spider-Man's head and body.

Spider-Man quickly became a punching bag. With one last powerful blow, Batman smashed his elbow into Spider-Man's temple, and then delivered a powerful wheel kick, connecting with Spider-Man's head, and sending him crashing into the ground.

Batman stood over his fallen prey, breathing heavy and bleeding. But it didn't last long. Spider-Man was back on his feet, and with newly found vigour and a torn mask, he lunged at Batman again.

Batman avoided the first series of attacks, but was caught with a spinning kick, and sent crashing across the floor.

"Sir, it's right above you!" Alfred said in Batman's ear.

The church began to rumble as the Batplane arrived overhead. Spider-Man looked up, confused. A small missile burst through the ceiling and hit the church floor. Spider-Man jumped away and clung to a wall.

The missile exploded, unleashing a massive cloud of yellow gas. Spider-Man tried to climb up the church roof, but the cloud of gas was too fast, enveloping him.

After the gas cleared, Spider-Man found himself completely unharmed, still clinging to a wall. He looked at his hands, confirming he was still in one piece.

Next to Spider-Man, on the wall, another batbomb landed. Spider-Man tried to jump, but the bomb exploded, sending Spider-Man falling to the church floor.

Spider-Man slowly got to his feet. He felt different, as if his mind was clouded; his vision blurry. And then he understood what the gas was: a neutralising agent, designed to depress his nervous system, and in doing so, neutralised his Spider-Sense.

Spider-Man didn't know how Batman knew that he had it, but now it was like flying blind.

Spider-Man turned to face Batman, who slowly walked towards him. For the first time, Spider-Man felt fear. He also noticed all the dead bodies on the floor. His heart began racing. What was going on?

"You must feel helpless. Confused. Wondering what is happening or who I am. How I know who you are or what you can do. But you don't deserve those answers. What you do need to know is that I am dangerous; I am always five steps ahead. I'll ask you again: walk away," Batman said, stopping a few feet away.

"You're smart, you're cunning, and you're skilled. But you're a vigilante and you're dangerous: that makes you a criminal. Whether you know who I am or not, I can't let you leave. Not without answers," Spider-Man told him.

"The man that did this is the man you let get away. He was the one that killed Jean DeWolff. He was trying to frame me, using the media to do it. Surely you must know what that feels like; after all, you work for one."

Spider-Man thought this over: he was right.

"How long will it last? The gas," Spider-Man asked.

"It's most potent for an hour. It'll gradually wear off after that."

"How do you know who I am?"

Batman said nothing.

"Who was that guy?"

"His name is Brock Lumlow, aka: Crossbones. He's a criminal assassin. He's had run ins with Steven Rogers."

"Captain America..." Spider-Man mumbled in astonishment. "And he's responsible for this?"

"Yes."

"My bad," Spider-Man acknowledged the fact he had come in guns'a'blazin'. "But you know, without that gas, I would have kicked your ass."

Batman said nothing. Spider-Man laughed cautiously. But even he wasn't so sure.

"Go home, kid, this is bigger than you."

"Wait - I came here to help Gotham. Maybe I was a little rambunctious at first, but I want to help. Let me help you find him," Spider-Man pleaded.

"If my hunch is correct, I should have already found him," Batman countered.

"Then let me help you stop him. Let me make this right."

Batman thought it over for a moment. He considered Spider-Man's potential and decided he may come in handy in they run into anyone with special abilities; especially his Spider-Sense.

Batman nodded, and then fired his grappling gun at the ceiling. He glided up to the roof, and slipped through an crawlspace in the roof.

Spider-Man shook his head, clearing it. He jumped into the air and fired a web, swinging through the same crawlspace.

 **Rooftop of Satanic Church | 10:32PM**

On the roof, Spider-Man stared up in amazement at the Batplane hovered above intimidatingly.

 _Wow. Who is this guy?_ Spider-Man thought to himself.

Batman touched his comlink and dialled Tim once again. But this time, there was no answer.

"Alfred, I can't reach Tim. Can you track him?"

"I can't find him, sir," Alfred replied.

"Uhm, who are you talking to?" Spider-Man asked, peaking over Batman's shoulder.

Batman shrugged him off and ignored him. "Keep looking. Send out a message to the family - Tim's missing. We're on our way back now."

"We, sir?"

Batman turned back to Spider-Man and sized him up. Spider-Man flexed comically.

"Yes. _We_ ," Batman sighed.

* * *

 **Batcave | Underneath Wayne Manor | 10:35PM | October 6**

Alfred sat at the Batcomputer, working quickly. He sent out messages to each of the Bat-family members: Nightwing, Batgirl, Robin, Spoiler, Red Hood, and Batwoman.

They each received the message, acknowledging it.

Alfred sat back in the chair, hands folded. He was worried about Tim. Bruce had lost one Robin, but he was able to return; but what if the was the one Robin who wouldn't return.

Alfred closed his eyes, saying a quiet prayer.

* * *

 **Old School Boxing Gym | S.H.I.E.L.D HEADQUARTERS | 10:30PM | October 6**

It was a boxing gym of the past, as early as the thirties. Heavy bags hung from the ceiling along with tires and sledgehammers, along with other old school workout equipment.

In the centre of the gym was an old boxing ring, where two men duked it out. Both men wore ten ounce gloves and head gear.

The two men were highly trained boxers, both delivering and countering each others hits.

Another man entered the gym and walked towards them. S.H.I.E.L.D. director Nick Fury.

"Rogers, Barns!" Fury shouted.

The two men in the ring stopped boxing and turned. They removed their gloves and headgear. One of the men was Steve Rogers; the other, Bucky Barns.

Fury leaned against the bottom rope, looking in at them.

"You've fought in one war, you ready for another?"

"Who's fighting this time?" Rogers asked, wiping his face with a towel.

"Latveria and Serbia. And Serbia needs our help," Fury said.

"Latveria? Haven't heard much about it," Bucky said, taking a drink of water.

"No one has. It's a rather secretive country. What we do know is their dictator is a very powerful man," Fury explained.

"What's his name?" Rogers asked.

"Victor Von Doom; but the Pentagon just refers to him as Dr. Doom."

Rogers and Barns traded looks.

"The US President has requested Captain America make his presence felt. He thinks it'll show our commitment to fighting for peace, you know, with everything going on. I told him you may not be up for it, but the President was insistent.

"Well, I've never been one to turn down helping those in need. And if the President is trusting me with such a responsibility, how could I say no" Rogers said.

"If you're going, I better too. Someone's got to save your ass," Bucky teased.

"Good. We leave at dawn," Fury said, walking away. "The world's changing boys," Furry added, turning back to them. "Make sure you're ready for whatever or whomever we come up against."

Fury left the gym, leaving the two men alone once again.

"If we're going to war, maybe we should brush up one more than just our boxing?" Rogers suggested.

Bucky smiled. "I've been dying to hear you say that."

* * *

 **Warehouse | Unknown | Time Unknown**

The warehouse was dark and quiet, except for the faint dripping of water.

Underneath a single lamp was the Red Robin. His mask had been removed; his face bloody. He had been badly beaten. He lied on the floor, breathing slowly; each breath of air pained his broken ribs.

He was wet, lying in a small pool of his own blood.

Tim's eyes flickered. He was able to open them slightly, just enough to see the lamp above him. And that's when he heard it: laughter. A maniacal laugh - or cackle. It was coming from somewhere within the warehouse; somewhere off in the dark.

Tim slowly rolled onto his butt. He held his sides in agony, fighting back the tears. He reached for his utility belt, but it had been removed.

The cackle grew louder.

Tim pushed himself back against a wall.

"Who's there? Show yourself!"

"Scared of the dark?" the voice cackled.

"I'm not scared of freaks like you - Joker."

"The Joker? Don't insult me."

From the shadows, he emerged: his suit was purple and green with glowing yellow eyes. He wore a devilish smile with pointed teeth.

"It's Goblin. The Green Goblin. The Joker killed one of the Robins; allow me to kill another."

He began cackling again.

Tim was trapped. No belt, no help. He closed his eyes as the Goblin's shadow stood over him.


End file.
